


The Beast Within

by keir



Series: Kinktober 2018 [16]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Happy Ending, Large Cock, M/M, Minotaur - Freeform, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Ritual Sex, Rough Sex, Sacrifice, Teratophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 01:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16651708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keir/pseuds/keir
Summary: In a beautiful white city by the sea, there is wealth and happiness; the people flourish and prosperity rules.But it all comes with a price. Atop the cliffs rises a giant black maze, looming over the city. Waiting, watching. And every year there must be a sacrifice to appease the beast within.





	The Beast Within

Lance smelled of sweet oils and blooming flowers. He had been bathed and then anointed, the scents rubbed into his soft, smooth skin. He was dressed in a sheer light blue robe and nothing else; it was lightly tied about his waist, the train flowing behind him ethereally. A crown of greenery and large white blossoms had been placed upon his head as the priests had blessed him.

He was ready to be sacrificed.

Or perhaps it was more that they were ready to sacrifice him. Lance himself was terrified, his limbs heavy and his lips numb. He let them guide him through his ablutions, through the rituals and rites. He felt as if he were floating, looking down at himself and willing his body to run, to hide, to do anything but accept this.

But he couldn't in the end. It would bring dishonor upon his family, and besides, they would catch him if he did try to escape. The sacrifices all ended up going in the end.

They led him through the city, wending through the streets in a grand procession. Flower petals rained down on him as people chanted, reaching out to touch him or trail their fingers over the gossamer fabric of his robe's train. To touch him was said to bring good luck in the coming year.

That was what this was all about; his sacrifice was meant to ensure a good year with a bountiful harvest to come, a blessing upon this land. Of course, it would be a blessing for everyone but him.

His fingers trembled as they passed through the giant golden gates and took the path up to the cliff. It was random, so they said, how the sacrifice was picked. The Emperor himself had drawn Lance's name, bestowing upon him the honor of sacrificing himself for his people. It had not mattered that Lance was of noble birth; once chosen, his fate was sealed.

The Captain of the Guard, Alfor, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as his feet faltered. His smile was genuine but sad, and Lance couldn't bear to look him in the face. He had known Alfor all his life, had grown up playing with his daughter Allura in the palace halls. He couldn't forget how tears had streamed down her cheeks as she placed the flower crown upon his head like a final farewell. Neither of them could speak, or perhaps they just didn't have the words.

They were drawing close now. The black walls reared up, savage and sharp against the bright blue skyline. It was a bitter contrast to the soft white and grey stone of the city.

Nobody could recall exactly when the labyrinth was built, only that it was ancient. It was built by the gods themselves, an everlasting monument to the folly of man, and every year one amongst them must be offered up to appease them. No one who entered ever returned, no matter what tricks they might try. Nobody knew what lay at the heart of the maze, at least no one living.

Lance let out a shuddering breath as they stopped beneath the massive heights. The black walls were completely smooth, unnaturally so; no human hand had made this structure. There was no way to scale them and escape the maze, even for the best climber. It was surrounded on three sides by sheer cliff face which dropped to the sea below, though perhaps a fall from such a height even if he could climb out might be a more peaceful death than what lay before him.

The priests approached him, chanting and flicking droplets of water on Lance as they offered him up and issued a prayer for a prosperous year.

When they were done, everyone stood aside, clearing a path. Lance stared at the entrance, limbs leaden. He didn't want to go, didn't want his life to end here. The labyrinth grew hazy as tears welled in his eyes. He waited there, praying they would change their minds or that there would be a sign from the gods that they didn't want him, but nothing happened. The soldiers behind him shifted, silently lowering their spears. Lance would go in one way or another.

He would not shame his family. He walked forward slowly, one dragging step at a time. He breathed in the salty sea air, focused on the feel of the breeze across his skin. The labyrinth loomed before him.

He didn't look back, afraid that the last of his will would break if he did. He walked forward under the perfectly symmetrical arch and to his death.

When the door slammed shut, he jumped and then threw himself against it, forgetting all decorum. He didn't want to die here, didn't want to be sacrificed. He wanted to live and be free and grow old.

Lance pounded on the door, shouting until his throat was dry and raw, but he heard nothing, not even the cry of a gull overhead. There was only silence within the maze. He leaned against the door until his breathing had evened. There were only two options, he reasoned with himself: to give up and die here, or to try to find possible salvation rumored to lie at the heart of the maze. He looked to either side of himself, but there was no differentiation between left or right; all he saw was smooth black walls going on and on.

He started walking. He wandered without a plan or any idea what to do but put one front before the other. Soon he had no idea where he was or whether he had passed that way before; the floors were as smooth as the walls, and they gave up no secrets. He walked and walked and walked because there was nothing else he could do.

Eventually the sun began to set and Lance watched with fear as each second brought it lower and lower until the last wink of light completely disappeared over the labyrinth walls. The air became chilly and he shivered in his sheer robe; he was hungry and thirsty, and there was no sustenance to be found, not even a single weed. Lance leaned against a wall and sank down; wrapping his arms around his knees he let himself cry.

He didn't know how long he wept or when the noise started, but he was still huddled on the ground when he realized he heard something other than his own sobs. He looked up, hoping that Alfor would turn the corner, that they had changed their minds and come looking for him, but no one appeared. Still, his ears didn't deceive him as the noise came again, like something clicking on the stone.

Slowly, he stood, joints aching from holding his huddled posture for so long. He couldn't tell where the sound was coming from as it echoed all around, growing louder and louder, but he knew that it was coming toward him.

It was full night now, and he could only see by the light of the stars and the pregnant moon. Every shadow made him jump as he scanned his surroundings. There were several openings in the walls, and his eyes scanned back and forth.

It was not silent as it revealed itself. Lance saw one foot and then a shoulder, and then the rest emerged around the corner. He shrank back, heart in his throat and breath leaving his body. Its black hooves struck the hard stone floor, the sound ringing with finality. Its legs, which were bent back, were covered in fur; the naked torso was that of a man, heavily muscled, and its head was that of a bull. Its fur was black as pitch but for a single white star on its forehead, and its massive horns were smooth and shining, curving up toward the sky. It stared at him for a while as Lance stared back, trembling; it was the beast of the labyrinth, the reason no one ever returned alive. Lance held still as it advanced, slowly but surely; it was strangely beautiful in a way, and Lance couldn't help but notice the large cock and extremely heavy balls swinging between its legs.

Only when it bared its flat, white teeth did he run. He tripped over the train of his robe before righting himself and fleeing once more into the maze. His heart pounded as he took turn after turn, not knowing if he had already passed that way or if he was going in circles. His only hope was to lose the beast or find the center of the maze. He ran and ran until his legs had turned to jelly, and then fear pushed him to run more. The train of his robe flew behind him like gossamer wings.

But the sound of the hooves still echoed around him as if not far behind. Lance's throat was on fire and his legs finally gave out; he collapsed, trembling at the hooves drew closer and closer. This was his end. He closed his eyes and murmured a prayer.

When he opened them, the beast was standing there. Lance watched as it approached, too exhausted to run any more. Hot tears trailed down his cheeks as the hooves came to a stop before him. The beast crouched down, and Lance looked into its black eyes; they stared at each other in the quiet night, and Lance let out a shuddering breath. How long had this creature been here? Since the maze's birth? A long and lonely existence.

Lance lifted his hands slowly. The beast's nostrils flared in its broad, wet nose, and Lance stopped, but it made no other move. Lance placed his hands hesitantly on the broad muzzle, surprised to feel fur so soft it could have belonged to one of his pet rabbits. His fingers pet gently as he held eye contact and then leaned in to kiss the beast, a gentle brushing of lips. "I forgive you," he murmured softly as he closed his eyes. "Do what you must."

There was a pause, and then the wet, cold nose touched the juncture between Lance's neck and shoulder. He gasped and whimpered, sure he would be bitten, his blood spilled across the walls and floor of the maze, but it didn't come. The beast sniffed at him, drawing in deep breaths, and then Lance felt a giant tongue laving over him. He shuddered, holding still as the beast continued to lap at him, messy and wet.

It dawned on him that it must like the scent of the oils he had been bathed in, perhaps for the very purpose of appeasing it. Its broad head turned this way and that as it licked at every inch of skin it could find. Lance submitted, weak and still very much afraid that he was about to be a meal until he laid eyes on what was between the beast's legs.

Its cock was erect and enormous, shaped like a man's yet easily four times the average size. The balls were dark and heavy, and they hung low and full as a bull's. Their weight swung pendulously, mesmerizing in a way. The beast noticed him watching, and it grunted, the sound so deep and low Lance could feel it in his bones. Human hands grabbed him and lay him down on the cold stone, his flower crown tumbling from his head. He gasped as the chill sank into him, nipples perking beneath the sheer fabric draped around him. The hands hovered above him, just shy of caressing him as they trailed down his body.

Fingers untied the sash at his waist and parted the smooth fabric, letting it pool around him on the ground. He was bare to the beast, open and vulnerable. His uncut cock was nestled in a thatch of curly golden brown hair, and a large hand went to it. Lance's breathing was as fast as a mouse's who was caught in the jaws of a cat. The touch was soft, wondering as fingertips brushed over it, gently rolling back the hood to reveal the head.

The beast left it there, intrigued by other parts as he spread Lance's trembling legs. It looked down at him, dark eyes showing more emotion than a mindless beast, and Lance felt so confused yet still fearful. His legs were pushed wide open, his most private parts laid bare. The giant head lowered, and Lance felt tears coming as he was overwhelmed, sure that now he was going to be gored to death by the sharp horns.

Instead, the beast buried its snout against his buttocks, the nose cold and wet. Lance arched away, but it followed. It snuffled at him, taking in his scent.

Lance arched and gasped as a giant tongue thrust between his cheeks. It was hot and wet, and he shuddered, completely unprepared for it. He looked down the length of his body, but the beast was focused on one thing alone now. The tongue prodded at his hole, and then it was slipping inside.

Lance whined and arched, completely at the mercy of the beast. It pushed closer, tongue delving deep; it was so thick, stretching him open. His hands grasped at the long horns, not trying to impede but simply holding on for dear life as he was pleasured. The beast was hungry, but not as he had expected. It grunted as it feasted, tongue undulating as it sank deeper and deeper, flicking across the deep parts of him. Lance stared up at the stars and the moon, head swimming with the enormity of it all.

When the beast rose up, Lance lay pliant and weak but for his grip on the horns. It crawled over him, dark eyes blazing, and Lance was caught up in them. The beast leaned down over him and Lance leaned up, kissing him once more but with passion. It made a long, low growl, and Lance shuddered as he felt the first brush of the massive cock against his hip.

He looked down at it, at the drooling head trailing over his lower belly, the size of it dwarfing Lance's own cock. A shiver went through him as he spread his legs wider. He looked into the beast's eyes, lips parted.

He was ready to be sacrificed.

The beast took him in a rush, swift and rough. Lance arched and shouted as the massive cock breached him, splitting him wide open and shoving its way into the deepest parts of him. His fingers were white-knuckled as he clung to the smooth horns. The heavy bullocks of the beast swung beneath them, slapping against Lance's ass, warm and soft. The beast grunted as he rutted, human hips thrusting hard and sure.

Lance whined, feeling the head of the beast's cock bruise his insides. He was overwhelmed, limbs shaking as he was taken. The giant pink tongue lapped at him, tasting him. He felt himself unraveling in the arms of the beast, so strangely beautiful and terrifying.

It grunted loudly and suddenly sat up, dragging Lance with him by his grip on his horns. Lance cried out long and loud, sobbing his song of lust and pain as the new position had him sliding all the way to the root of the massive cock inside him. The beast squatted on its haunches as it humped upward into its sacrifice, deeper than ever. Lance keened in desperation, not sure how much more he could take.

The large hand was gentle as it took the human's cock up. Lance sobbed in relief as it stroked him, pleasured him. He couldn't bare to peel his hands away from the horns, agraid if he did that he would lose his mind, and so he gripped them harder, throttling them. The beast's hot breath puffed out over his neck, and Lance lost himself, sobbing as he came.

The beast bellowed, an ear-shattering sound that echoed into the night. Lance mimicked its cry, arching as the cock buried in him swelled up, pressing on his delicate insides. The beast ejaculated, coming with Lance; it emptied its heavy bullocks, pumping its seed into its beautiful sacrifice, who accepted it into himself as he spent his own seed on his belly.

When it was over, and the night closed in around them again, the only sound was the harsh breathing between them. Lance whimpered as the beast's cock softened enough that it could no longer stay inside him; it fell from him, the head popping past the ring of muscle in a last ripple of pleasure. A gush of cum followed soon after, dripping to the black floor, the signs of the beast's pleasure with his sacrifice.

Lance was gathered up in strong arms, lifted into the air. He swooned, feeling weak in the wake of his flight and his terror and the offering up of his body. He shook all over, and the beast held him tighter. It was warm, and Lance pressed himself against it. He lifted a hand, running it over the plush fur until his fingertips touched the white star on the top of its forehead. He smiled softly and fell into a deep slumber.

When he woke, he was naked in a beautiful garden. Greenery was all around, lush and thriving; giant blossoms danced in a gentle breeze and the sun shone down, warming him. A small brook babbled close by, its sound soothing and soft.

All around the garden were black walls, high and smooth. Lance bolted upright, heart beating harder at the sight. He recalled the events from before he slept, felt heat suffuse him. Was it all a dream? Or was this the dream? Had he died and passed beyond the veil?

"You're awake."

Lance whipped around, jerking away from the voice. A man stood before him, naked as well; his physique was amazing, every inch of him muscled. "Who are you?" Lance asked, voice trembling.

The man smiled sadly and slowly sat beside him. He reached out a hand, gently brushing a finger over Lance's cheek. "You were my sacrifice," he said softly.

Lance startled as it all snapped into place. The torso was familiar, and the man's hair was black with a white forelock. Lance reached out to touch it, and he knew. "Where are we?" he asked as he withdrew his hand.

"In my garden. My prison." The man grimaced. "I have lived here, cursed, for years beyond counting. Until you came along."

"Me?" Lance asked.

"You." The man lifted Lance's hand, pressing his lips against it passionately. "Only you saw me and were willing to accept what I was. Only you gave me compassion."

Lance was stunned as he watched the gorgeous man watching him. "I don't even know your name," Lance said, feeling dazed. He let the beast-turned-man draw him to his feet and hold him close.

"My name is Prince Shiro, and I intend to take back my throne."

**Author's Note:**

> As always, find me as keirdark on tumblr


End file.
